


In Our Sleep

by wizaad



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Nightmare, quite possibly the worst thing ive ever had the confidence to post lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 18:26:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13082721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wizaad/pseuds/wizaad
Summary: He never talked in his sleep.





	In Our Sleep

Toby never talked in his sleep, but good Lord did he move. She was jolted awake by him kicking her — and she would have hit back, too, were it not for the fact that he did it unconsciously — and she grimaced. Not in pain but in confusion. That kind of confusion only plausibly felt in the earliest hours of the morning.

A nightmare. Toby had admitted that he’d always had them ever since he was a little kid, but they had only intensified as he got older, as the worst of his addiction had dug it’s fingernails into his sleep, and then when the Team had started taking jobs with Homeland. They weren’t frequent — not exactly — but had, of course, become more vivid and more explosively intrusive.

And when he admitted that having her there made it less frightening...that’s when she knew that she was it for him. For some reason, it became hauntingly clear that when you deal with the little nitty-gritty things, — and effectively so — there isn’t much margin or even the desire for leaving it up to someone else to deal with.

So she held him.

She sat up so that her back was against the headboard and the blanket had gathered around her waist and she quietly shushed him. He was moaning in his sleep. He never screamed and he never shed a tear and he never, ever spoke. It was so very strange to witness a man, who never shut his mouth during the day, lie so quietly and, at the best of times, so peacefully.

“Come here, Doc,”

Gently she took his hand. As always, it was warm and dry. She lightly tugged his arm until he gravitated towards her, laying his head on her stomach, and she let his arm rest across her middle. Not really what she was going for, but she shrugged inwardly. He had stopped fussing and his ragged breathing seemed to have returned to normal.

Bringing up one hand to comb through his hair and the other to rest on his upper arm which lay across her body, she sighed to herself, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the headboard. God, she loved him — even if he could sometimes be an annoying sleeper.

Her eyelids drooped low with exhaustion, but she continued to run her fingers through his curls and tenderly stroke his arm, when he mumbled, much to her surprise. “I love you,” he said, eyes remaining shut; his arm around her body remaining loose in a way that could only be described as sleepily.

And she smiled to herself, in a way that could only be described as lovingly — an amused kind of love — for her husband was a very peculiar man indeed.

 


End file.
